habit
by linetteflys
Summary: "She was throwing dresser drawers around the room like pillows." "He thought it was just newlyweds, getting at it." —ItachiSakura.


i.

* * *

"A habit."

His icy fingers slid down the side of her face. It would've been a touching gesture, if she hadn't, seconds before, been slammed into the wall. Her vision was getting blurry.

"You have an awful habit, Haruno. It's what got you here." His fingers trailed down to her neck. She panicked, his body pressed against hers and her chakra draining fast, as he wrapped his fingers around her throat, and squeezed. "This is quite a _nasty_ situation you've gotten yourself into."

His grip tighten and it took all her willpower, as she desperately fought for consciousness. If she were to pass out now, everything she did up to this point would go to waste. All the absolute _shit_ she lived through the past five months would amount to nothing more but sickening memories and scars that wouldn't fade away.

"You miss him, don't you? That's why you've been following me around like a puppy," he smirked, "because you were hoping Sasuke would come and find me. And you'll be able to see him again, isn't that right?" A strand of pink hair fell onto her face. He gently swept it behind her ear.

"It's a shame though." The fingers around her throat lifted, leaving her gasping for air. His weight that had pressed her firmly to the wall pulled away, and she fell to the floor, coiling into a ball. She attempted to generate chakra in her trembling hand—_was there any left_?

He stepped on her wrist, his shoe grinding her skin.

"I'm disappointed, Haruno. And here I thought you were more than just book-smart. You should know by now that you'll only irritate me further if you try to get up again."

She didn't know what to do, how to respond appropriately to the situation. She watched helplessly as her hand writhed beneath his foot. She needed to think of a way to survive. If she could have a few days to recover, she could be tracking him again in—

"You're not thinking you still have a chance, do you?" He lifted his foot and immediately, she pulled her hand back. Before she could examine the damage done to her right wrist, he grabbed her elbow and dragged her into his arms. "Well," he mused, straightening her, "your stubbornness is somewhat of a selling point."

Her vision was failing, she could only make out a weak outline, now. Her thoughts were getting muddled, and his latest remark only added to her chaotic state-of-mind. She needed to think of a way out. She needed to—

"Would you like to come with me?"

She blinked at him, her eyelids heavy. She must be reaching a critical point for her to be hearing things.

"Would you like me to help you break that awful habit of yours?"

She was slipping into unconscious. She was sinking into darkness.

"Would you like me to help you stop loving him?"

She didn't have much time left. She needed to do something fast.

"Would you like me to _make you stronger_?"

Sakura lost consciousness and fell into him. Itachi steadied her and slipped his free hand beneath the bend of her knees. He scooped her up and was planning on setting her on the hotel bed before leaving soundlessly.

Killing her would be too troublesome. The hotel owner would probably faint if he saw a dead girl staining his sheets—he'd never have business again—and if the Hokage, the blonde idiot, the other blonde idiot, one of Danzou's underlings, and Kakashi were pulled into this mess, then he would be very annoyed.

As he glided over to the bed, her weighing nothing at all, he set her down.

It was when he pulled away that he noticed.

The hand that he ruthlessly stepped on had bruised fingers and dripping cuts—none of which was his doing; she was the one who was tossing around lamps and using clothes hangers as shuriken.

He had deliberately stepped on her wrist in a way that would slow her blood circulation and restrict chakra from flowing into her palm. But, even though he did quite a number on her—he shattered the bathroom mirror with her forehead—her stubbornness held out.

Her bloody fingers had grasped a piece of his cloak and from the looks of the determined expression on her unconscious face, she wasn't planning on letting go.

So she had made her decision after all.

Itachi sighed. It's been a while since he's been with a girl. Konan didn't really fit his preferences of a woman.

He let his fingers glide over her cheeks again.

"What're you doing?"

Kisame stood at the door, glancing about the room and examining the damage done to the furniture. He rested his eyes on the girl.

"I have a horrible feeling that she's not dead." He waited for his friend to reply. Something along the lines of, "I'm about to," or, "You can handle it," or, "Let's feed her to the fish."

But Itachi just took off his cloak and draped it over her.

"She'll be coming with us."

Kisame scoffed. "You're kidding, right? This brat has been following us for months. You said she wouldn't last long, but she lasted five _fucking_ months. And finally, _finally_, she made a mistake—so let's just _kill_ her."

Itachi remembered.

He didn't mind being followed by her—it was sort of amusing. But he would be merciless if she got in his way.

And she did. She revived a man that was supposed to be dead and hid him. Kisame finished the man off when he found him, but by then, she already knew too many secrets.

The only thing left was to kill her.

"You know what else? She's _fucking_ annoying. Her hair is the color of _salmon_—and I _hate_ salmon_—_and her eyes are too big. If you're looking for a lady-friend then we can go to the red light district. Women are supposed to be weak and defenseless, Itachi. The brat picks up trees and—"

Itachi took off his shirt and fell onto the vacant bed.

She wasn't completely stupid of course, it was difficult to tell where she was hiding. He knew she was there, but he would've had to put in effort to find her. So instead, he had her follow him to a closed-in hotel and dragged her out of the shadows.

She put up a good fight and along the way, amidst slamming her into walls and dodging flying chairs and soap samples, he forgot that he was supposed to kill her.

"I suspect you'll be sleeping on the floor. Or maybe on a lily pad of some sort."

"_Damn you_. I'm not a fucking frog you fucking—"

"I'm not criticizing where you may chose to sleep, Kisame. Just don't touch the girl. Or her bed. Or me and my bed, for that matter."

"ITA—"

"How did the hotel owner react to the commotion?"

Kisame sighed. It was pointless and frustrating arguing with Itachi. No one knew what the hell the guy was thinking. "He didn't seem to mind the noise." Kisame dropped his sword and sat down, leaning against the door.

"She was throwing dresser drawers around the room like pillows."

"He thought it was just newlyweds, _getting at it_."

"…"

"Should I have clarified?"

Itachi wanted to keep her around. Time passed quickly when she was there, pretending to be some sort of secret spy, thinking she loves a boy and could do anything to protect him.

"No. It's fine."

He was going to tear down everything she thought was real.

He was going to die soon. It was okay to commit one more sin.

.

.

.

_fin_.

* * *

**notes:** Standard disclaimer applies. 071710.

I'm alive!

And healthy. I'm trying new things :)

I'm going to stray away from Sasuke/Sakura and try out a few other pairings. Mainly, Sakura/other-hot-guy-that's-not-Sasuke. Feel free to drop suggestions :) and don't hesitate to lay down the criticism people—I can take it. It's been so long since I've written for Naruto fandom that I feel out of practice.

Thank you for reading :) reviews are appreciated.


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